


The Beginning

by abiotic_butterfly



Series: The Regret Series [1]
Category: Shameless (US), Shameless - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Bipolar Disorder, Getting Released, Guard Power, Jail, M/M, Mpreg, Physical Harm, Police Brutality, Prequel, Rejection, Self Harm, Stealing, Tasers, Tattoos, Watching TV, being shot, breaking up, drinking while pregnant, injuries, smoking and drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-25
Updated: 2018-10-25
Packaged: 2019-08-07 09:13:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16405547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abiotic_butterfly/pseuds/abiotic_butterfly
Summary: This is a prequel to “The Aftermath” enjoy.





	The Beginning

He didn’t know what he expected. Something romantic? What fucking moron would go running after getting a call from their something boyfriend. 

Mickey of course.

Guess he was that fucking dumb. 

Of course no matter what he said it was useless and pointless to Ian who really couldn’t care less. His “I love you” that took him years to be able to even voice was just some random words to the taller boy. Nothing that meant any other kind of value.

His heart hurt and his stomach twisted and turned in on itself. This was the end. After so much fighting and arguing this is how it all ended. 

He had put up with so much for the other boy. He’d went through so much shit because he loved the fool. 

He’d taken abuse of all kinds, mental that fucked with his mind, physical that would puncture his lungs and bruise his skin. 

But he was fine with that, he could take that.

He’d been through everything Ian had ever given to him. All his shouting and craziness, his strange antics about people watching them and selling and stealing suitcases. 

He was fine with that, he’d stick by Ian, through all of that.

But Ian didn't return the feeling. Instead he ignored Mickey, used him and made him feel like nothing. On days that he felt low he’d push him away, on days he felt high he’d talk him into doing something risky and then fuck him. 

But at some point Ian has gotten tired of it all. Surprising right? Ian being the one who got fed up of it.

Mickey didn’t understand where he went wrong. 

He’d been there for Ian, supported him, tried to fucking help him! But no, that wouldn’t do. Ian wanted to run off and screw up his own life. Fine by Mickey…fine by Mickey…

He’d found out while he was in jail. After the ordeal of Sammi and all the shit she put them through he was thrown in jail for trying to roofie her. ‘Bitch deserved it’ was watch he told the police. 

They weren’t amused at his story of how she had hurt someone close to him. If anything they patronized him more for it, rolling their eyes and chuckling about the idiotic Ukrainian that would ever do such a moronic thing. All for nothing.

Sitting in a jail cell was horrible. He was used to being in jail. Was in it all the time. But it was never this bad. 

When he was younger and thrown in jail it was the prospect of getting to actually fuck guys that made the whole thing worth while. After he met Gallagher it changed to fucking guys while thinking about getting back to his redhead. But now he had nothing. No one to go back to.

His brothers were okay, they weren’t the best but they also weren’t the worst. They stuck by him through different things in his life but he never grew as close of a relationship to them as he did Mandy. 

Too bad she fucked off to Indiana with her airhead-girlfriend beating-pussyass-boyfriend. 

Memories of Ian would swarm his brain, thoughts of him being lonely without him. Punching and head butting pictures of him. Trying to fuck random girls even if that never worked. Risking his life to be with the fucking prat. 

All of it was for nothing! No good came out of it! Just a broken heart, not even two, because, oh no, Ian Clayton Gallagher couldn’t give less of a fuck about his boyfriend while he did whatever the fuck he wanted. 

The dude hadn’t even worried if Sammi had shot him. Didn’t even really get a concerned look on his face once, just watched as the bitch chased Mickey down the street while rapidly firing at him.

She even fucking got him. She skinning his thin, burned like a motherfucker. But he sealed his lips shut and took the pain while Paramedics dabbed and swabbed the wound and sterilized it. 

When he was taken to the infirmary that’s when he found out. Good old fucking Gallagher had knocked him up. 

Four months along the bitch of a Nurse had told him. Jesus did they love their job of ruining lives. 

He’d laughed, burst out into giggles in front of the Doctor when he was told. “I’m fucking pregnant?! You fucking serious? Pregnant, really?” He was shaking his head and laughing, yet no one else was.

Just like everything else that was a problem, the Doctors gave him pills upon pills that were meant for him. Of course he wasn’t that stupid, he knew each and every one of them. He was after all used to medications from trying to get Ian to take his. 

Only difference was he was really going to take them. 

“Hey Prisoner, don’t forget tomorrow.” The officer laughed as he watched Mickey walk away. 

Mickey growled under his breath, David, what a dick. He always did shit like that. He was one of the main reasons everyone in the goddamn prisoner knew he was expecting. He was a major asshole who laughed and bullied Mickey any chance he got. Either it was yelling degrading homophobic slurs or knocking into Mickey when he was walking.

Mickey hated his fucking guts and sooner or later he was going to fucking murder him. What did it matter anyway? He’d got 15 years already, what’s a few more?

During one of his visitations Svetlana had come to see him, she even brought Yevgeny. But that wasn’t really where his attention was at, as soon as he saw Firecrotch sit down in the back with his son he couldn’t really not look.

Svetlana was going on and on about murdering someone for money. It’s not that he wouldn’t do it, but he just wasn’t in the mood to do things like that anymore.

The baby made everything fucking weirder.

After his comment about Ian just sitting in the back, slowly and surely he stood up and sat down in front of Mickey, handing Yev off to Svetlana. 

Mickey looked up at him and then licked his lips, his whole face was screwed up with nerves. He uncertainty looked down and then back at Ian who was pointedly looking away from the criminal.

It hurt to see Ian do that, he’d never seen the younger boy not want to look at him with such a lack of emotion.

Sure, there had been times Ian turned away and fell asleep crying because of the illness and Mickey got that. But right now seeing how reluctant Ian was to be sitting there and even look at him was making his stomach burn and heart ache. 

He was beginning to lose hope with every second spend of Ian looking bored to be there. “Hey uh- I wanted to show you something.” He knew what he did was irrational and clearly not thought out well, but he wanted to prove how much he loved the other man. He thought maybe, just maybe this would do it. 

How could he be so fucking dumb.

He unbuttoned his jumpsuit and pulled down his white wife beater to show off the inflamed and gnarly tattoo that was actually kind of repulsive to look at. His Doctors were going to have a field day of lecturing him about all the damages he could have done to the baby the next time he’s forced to see them. 

He looked up to see if Ian gave any kind of emotion towards his actions but the man on the other side of the glass only looked…disappointed.

“Gallagher has two Ls.”

Mickey felt his heart sink, why the fuck did he do his full name. What dumbass does that?! 

“What, no it doesn’t.” He tried to play off like he was right when really, how could he try and justify himself with someone who had to spell Gallagher all their life.

Well that was a bust, he let his shirt go and shamefully buttoned his orange jumpsuit back up. His eyes were downcast and he was fidgeting in his seat. “You gonna wait for me?” He knew when he asked the question he’d immediately regret it. He looked up hopefully anyway, some part of him praying that Ian would nod and say he always would.

Instead he said that Mickey was gonna be gone a lot time…fifteen years, possibly eight. Even Mickey knew what that meant. ‘You’re gonna be gone a long time so don’t expect me to be here for you to come back to.’ 

It was silent for a moment, Ian never answered even if what he said should have been enough. But Mickey couldn’t just leave their whole relationship like that. That couldn’t be the fucking end! He wouldn’t be able to continue living if that was the last thing he’d ever said to the red haired man.

“You can lie.” He whimpered out, his whole demeanor had changed and he’d gone from this macho dude to someone begging for love. Even after the offer of lying, it seemed to take everything in Ian to say he’d wait. And that hurt so goddamn bad that Mickey thought he was gonna vomit.

The bell rung and everyone had to go back, slowly but surely the criminals started to leave. Ian didn’t look back but Mickey’s eyes were sending pleas of help. 

His heartbroken eyes lingering on ones that were full of nothing. 

He stood and left, his feet protesting his movements as he went. He knew that would be the last time he’d ever see Ian. And his heart tore in half at that thought.

By the time he was in his jail cell his mind had traveled back to when Ian was crazy about him. Always with a smile on his face while he danced and pranced around the smaller and dirtier boy. 

How the first time he and Mickey talked while Mickey was in jail Ian he’d been indeering and caring. Trying to put his hand on the glass like a movie cliche. But Mickey had denied him that, said for him to take the fucking thing off.

He curled in on himself, regretting all those memories where he had bashed on the younger boy and had taken advantage of him being there.

He’d never do that again, yet Ian still didn’t fucking care.

He’d continued with his life, watching day by day as his stomach grew and the cuts and black and blue marks on his body multiplied. 

Wasn’t even his doing. Not all of it.

He’d cut himself, sure. But the beatings were all other men who thought of him as weak for obviously getting knocked up by some random guy. Most likely the guy he’d gotten a tattoo of.

Oh did they love to torment him with his tattoo. “The fuck is, ‘Galagher’ huh? That your queer ass boyfriend?” They would chant, taking turns pushing and punching him.

It also seemed David had a new mission to make Mickey want to slit his throat. His own or the Officers, at this point it didn’t really matter.

“Lookie, lookie, what we have here. It appears to be a lonely little duck and, wouldn’t it be a shame if something happened to it?” He pulled out his taser and examined the exterior of it, admiring it almost. 

“Haven’t used this in a while…” he smiled at Mickey who visibly tensed. 

A hand found its way to his stomach where he tried to protect his child. Even if the action would in the long run do nothing.

He silently pleaded with the taller man, his eyes hopefull that he wouldn’t resort to that kind of punishment.

Too bad the Police man didn’t care.

It was like fire had been shot through him with an arrow. He felt all his muscles contract and his whole body seize. He let out a pathetic cry of pain as he slowly lost control of himself and fell down the wall, not being able to move except cry and gasp for breath. 

Everything was a rush in that moment; the Guard laughing more Guards coming over and grabing the taser and pushing him away.

A lady Officer came and kneeled down next to him, his body was slowly fading back to normal and with that came a great deal of pain. He rubbed his distended stomach and moaned helplessly as pain shot through him.

“Mickey? You’re Mickey right? I’m Cassidy, look you were just hit with a high voltage of electricity and we don’t know exactly how that affected the baby so you need to-“ her mouth continued moving but Mickey wasn’t really paying attention, his mind was drifting in and out of memories in his past.

“Mickey? Mickey! You gotta stay with me okay?” She shook him a little bit to get his attention. He groaned and grumbled, try to get away from the movement. Why the hell did they care now? What the fuck was their problem?!

A few moments later David was hauled away by more Officers while Paramedics that had apparently been called rushed over to him. 

He was lifted up and carried away, something that degraiting made him want to die. 

They ended up taking him to the hospital, a normal hospital; one outside of the Jail.

He was surprised to say the least, he didn’t expect to be out in the real world for awhile.

A Doctor with a hardened face came in, her lips pulled down in a frown that Mickey couldn’t read.

“Okay well according to all the test the baby is perfectly healthy and fine. The two of you should be able to be on your way by tomorrow. We’re gonna keep you here under observation for at least the night.

Mickey could understand that and he wasn’t gonna fucking complain about it. No way in hell would he do that.

After the Doctor left he put on the shitty tv and leaned back to relax a bit. Might as well make the most of it.

His stomach turned and he groaned at the feeling of the baby kicking and rolling around inside him. 

It’s not that he didn’t want to tell that his kid was alright, but he preferred for the baby to not kick and attack his organs.

He ate the horrible hospital food that tasted like rich stake compared to the prison food. And watched rerun after rerun of old shows.

He stayed up throughout the night, falling in and out of sleep as he did his best to stay awake and not dream.

The night was the same as the rest despite where he was. After all dreams didn’t care where he was. They still happened.

The next morning came too soon and the Doctor and a Guard showed up to no doubt take him back to prison and lock him back up.

But instead she gave him a clean bill of health and asked him if there was anyone he could call that could pick him up.

“The fuck you talkin’ bout? Pick me up?” He shook his head, “This some joke?”

She shook her head in return, “your being released so you’ll need someone to drive you home.”

Home…now there’s somewhere he didn’t think about. 

Who was even at home? Terry was in Prison, a higher institute than the one Mickey wound up in. Iggy and his other brothers sometimes but in the end rarely. And Svetlana was living with Kev and V. 

“I don’t have anyone.” He muttered, looking down at where he hands laid on his stomach.

The Guard huffed, “well find someone.” 

Mickey rolled his eyes, he couldn’t even remember Svetlana’s phone number. “Look buddy, I don’t have anyone that’s gonna fuckin’ take my ass home. So how about you let me go and we’re all even?” 

The Doctor shook her head, “that’d be against policy.”

Mickey moaned, more pain from the baby’s movements affecting him. The doctor eyed him skeptically, unsure of what kind of pain he was in exactly. 

“Get me a phone.” He mumbled finally.

It might have taken twenty minutes but he was able to dial the ring number and actually reach Svet.

“Who on other line?” Was the first words he heard and god did he miss hearing her voice. Never did he think he’d say that. 

“It’s Mickey, hey look…I’m gettin’ out of jail, and uh…I kinda need help gettin’ home. These assholes won’t let me walk or whatever the fuck so can you come get me?”

The other line was quite, probably her thinking it through. “I come when?”

As he waited for her to arrive he proceeded everything that had happened. Getting zapped; the hospital, being released. It was a lot to take in. Of course being the complete and utter asshat he was. He forgot about how no one knew he was pregnant.

So when he heard someone walk through his door and suddenly stop, he shouldn’t have been confused about why.

He was sitting on the side of the bed, dressed in jeans and a large t-shirt they provided him with.

Svetlana was in a t-shirt, jeans and a big fur coat. Her arms wrapped around Yevgeny. She was looking straight at his belly, her face unreadable.

“You have baby?”

Mickey scratched his chin and managed to stand up on his own with some effort. “Yeah, yeah fucking laugh at it up.” He gave her a glare but she gave nothing in return. In a way it was kind of insulting. They always made fun and picked on each other. Why wouldn’t she make some joke?

His eyes began to cloud over with realization and he glared at her. “Don’t you dare fucking pity me. I don’t need your pity!”

“No you don’t. Man don’t need pity. Too strong for it.” She mocked, her accent thick.

He both appreciated and loathed her in that moment.

The two went through all the procedures of getting released. Signing ridiculous forms about staying safe and taking it easy.

Finally after way too long the two of the walked through the doors to the hospital and out into the world. 

It was a boring and torturous walk back to the Milkovich house. One that involved Mickey having to take three breaks.

Svetlana each time would stop and patiently wait while he got his breath back and they would keep going.

They continued on until the house came into view and Mickey moved through the yard and up the steps, finding the door open.

Svet followed him inside and watched as he collapsed on the couch with a sigh, his hand rubbing his back that was sending spasms through him. 

“I come check on you.”

Mickey frowned at her words, shouting “don’t you fuckin dare!” To her back as she left.

But she did and slowly he began to complain about it less and less.

She’d do things for him, sometimes cook, sometimes clean, even grocery shop for him once and awhile. All while claiming how he was ‘lucky she was doing wifely duties for him.’ 

His life went on, slowly but surely he went back to his normal tough exterior while his insides were melted and destroyed.

It was easy to fake being okay through the day, not let thoughts in while he watched mindless television. Getting distracted by stealing baby supplies from different shops and one time a North Side home.

But at night he wanted to die. Constantly finding himself the victim of violent nightmares that involved Ian usually beating him to death while others watched and laughed.

So he developed an unhealthy balance of staying up most of the night and almost passing out through the day. 

Not to mention his drinking and smoking, of course that was against the rules of being pregnant. You’re not supposed to do those things. But it’s not like he was going to listen to that. He didn’t think he’d be able to even if he tried. 

So he drank “occasionally” and he smoked “sometimes.” 

It worked fairly well, even if Svetlana had disagreed time and time again. Repeating how it was ‘bad for baby.’ Or some bullshit like that. 

He continued that way for as long as he could. That was until he felt pain one morning, and throughout the day that ultimately ended with him dragging himself to the hospital. 

He thought that at the time Svetlana would be the one to insist him going. But she had been missing for a week, probably fucking around. And the pain was just getting worse as time went on. 

God did it fucking hurt.

If it wasn’t for the pain there’s no way he would have surrendered himself to the humiliation of walking into the local Hospital alone and saying that he had went into labor.

The lady at the desk had paged someone and a different women showed up with a wheelchair. He could have keeled over right there. 

So that’s where it left him, sitting alone in a too white room with pain that wouldn’t go away no matter what he did.


End file.
